I never thought I'd get there
to sixty two,
but where the *** am I?

heading to the fountain
watching as this mountain crumbles.
he mumbles, fumbles in his pocket
pulls out a handkerchief
(initialled in the corner )
because one cannot be too careful
wipes away a tear from the one good eye

I seeya, says the budgie
a companion of many years
( filled with millet seed and too
many phobias and fears)

If I do see sixty three
forget the candles on the cake
the fire brigade would take a dim view
even in the bright light.

That's it for now
I shall learn to read the map
have a tea and
take a nap.